Gracie | Cory Wilson

Chapter 1.1.7

Though Cory had told me he wouldn't be gone long, I didn't feel like taking any risks. I locked myself in the bathroom. I texted my mum, telling her I was comforting Missy after the fight and I'd see her tomorrow. She didn't care, reading the message without replying.

It room was small. There was a bath with a shower curtain, but there was no holder for the showerhead, so it just lay in the tub like a dead snake. It was apparent that the room hadn't been cleaned in a while as yellowy-brown stains were starting to appear around the edges of the bath. Their toilet had a wonky seat with no lid, so I perched my bum on the bathtub's edge. The mirror above the sink had a large crack down the middle and greasy finger stains, which blurred my reflection.

This, however, was the first time I saw myself after being smacked in the face.

The whole of my eyelid was a vibrant red, and so was the side of my nose. I thanked God that I had put my emergency concealer in my bag this morning seeing as I had Spanish tomorrow. Jabba would've killed me.

All at once, I was snapped out of my thoughts and fell off of the bath when a harsh banging at the door sounded.

This was it.

I had to open that door and face Cory's dad. I'd been found.

The door thumped again.

Taking a deep breath and screwing my eyes shut, I twisted the lock. Heart pounding, I peeked an eye open and tugged the door.

An audible sigh of relief fell from my mouth when I was greeted with the bruised face of Jordan Wilson.

"What you doing here?" He asked a little too loudly for my liking. Looking around anxiously, I grabbed his sleeve and dragged him into the toilet. I locked the door again and faced him. "Are you gonna punch me as well?"

"No," I scoffed and scanned his blackened eye, before smiling. "Look, we're matching."

"Yeah," Jordan jeered back, "basically twins."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Why're you in me 'ouse?" he asked again.

"Couldn't go home with a black eye," I said blatantly. "My mum would've killed me."

"Fightin' already?"

"No, I tried to break a fight up, actually," I crossed my arms over my chest. "You?"

"Nah, mine was deliberate."

"You punched yourself?" I let out a short, wry laugh.

"Can you get out now? I need a piss," He continued to avoid the question. I decided it was best to leave the subject.

"What if your dad comes in to clean or something?"

"Does it look like my dad cleans?" He pointed to the filthy bath with a raised brow.

Without replying, I unlocked the door again. I gave Jordan a small wave, which he didn't return, and opened the door.

"What're doing in the loo?" Cory muttered, walking up the stairs and grabbed my arm. His face fell when he looked over my shoulder, presumably seeing his brother. "With Jordan?"

"Making sure you're dad doesn't know I'm here," I whispered back.

"Right," said Cory, still uncertain. He dragged me away from the bathroom and back into his bedroom.

"What?" I said once his door was closed again with my arms folded.

"Why were ya in there?" He repeated angrily. "I told ya to t' move!"